


Don't Wait Up

by Felixbug



Series: Breaking the Silence [13]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex, corsets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-04-01 18:33:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4030294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felixbug/pseuds/Felixbug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Hawke’s teeth grazed Anders’ nipple through the fabric, and Anders’ hand tangled in his hair. He groaned, pushing up against Hawke’s mouth and rocking against his palm. Hawke rested his free hand on the steep curve of Anders’ hip, running his thumb over the boning of the corset as he moaned around his nipple and drew it into his mouth. He felt it harden through the wet silk, and flicked it with his tongue until Anders was groaning with every breath and his hand was clenched painfully in his hair. </i>
</p><p>Anders comes home wearing something unexpected. Hawke approves. A lot. PWP, Anders in a corset.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Wait Up

**Author's Note:**

> No major warnings for this besides the obvious explicit sex - Anders has had a bit to drink, there's explicit enthusiastic consent and he's in an established relationship with Hawke, but if you're not comfortable with tipsy sex then this isn't the fic for you (*whispers* I have MANY others :P). Enjoy!
> 
> Written for day 4 of #AndersPositive on Tumblr!
> 
> (now officially part of Breaking the Silence canon! I was gonna leave this floating around as a side story, but it turned out to be relevant to another fic so in it goes :P)

Hawke stretched his legs out towards the fire, glancing at the clock on the wall. Past four in the morning already, and still no sign of Anders. He stood up, his tired body protesting the loss of the comfortable armchair, and returned his book to the shelf. Waiting up for Anders had sounded romantic when he’d thought of it, settling down in the library to keep himself awake, but there were limits. When Anders had claimed to be going for drinks with Isabela and Merrill he’d been suspicious – Anders and Merrill’s friendship was strained at best – and by now Hawke was certain it had been an excuse to slip away on mage underground business without Hawke’s concern getting in the way.

At the library door, Hawke paused. He wasn’t certain but he could have sworn he’d heard the gentle click of the front door closing. He strained his ears for a moment and then heard it – a very definite snap of a key turning in the lock.  Hawke smiled, relief washing over him as his breath caught. It was easy to pretend he felt nothing but mild irritation when Anders disappeared like this – but the truth was every time he was late home he was terrified he’d taken one risk too many.

Hawke waited until he heard footsteps in the entrance hall, then pushed the library door open.

“Caught you,” he said, striding out into the hall.

Anders jumped, spinning around and almost losing his footing – Hawke’s gaze was drawn to his stumbling feet and his eyes widened in surprise. Anders wore a pair of very familiar buckled leather boots, low heeled but distinctly feminine, hugging his calves tightly before flaring out just above the knee and disappearing under his coat.

“I – told you not to wait up,” Anders said. He smiled, taking a couple of unsteady steps towards Hawke – not just the new boots then, Anders had catlike balance, it would have taken more than a pair of sensible heels to throw him off. Hawke took in his flushed face, his slightly tousled loose hair, then stopped studying him and lunged forward to catch him as Anders tripped and almost collided face-first with Hawke’s chest.

“Probably a good thing I did,” Hawke laughed, wrapping his arm around Anders’ waist and feeling – he wasn’t sure, something ridged and stiff – an unfamiliar texture through the coat. “I don’t think you’d have made it up the stairs in this state. I thought Justice didn’t let you drink?”

“He doesn’t let me get drunk,” Anders corrected, winding one arm around the back of Hawke’s neck and laughing giddily in his ear. “I’m just – nicely tipsy.”

“Tipsy enough to tell me what’s with the boots?” Hawke chuckled. He led Anders over to his desk, and Anders perched on the edge and reluctantly disentangled himself from Hawke.

“I was _hoping_ you’d be asleep and I wouldn’t have to,” he said. Anders shifted his legs to a wider stance for balance, and as he did his coat rode up against the desk exposing the top of the boot and a flash of pale thigh. “I – may have lost a bet.”

“Drinking _and_ gambling?” Hawke grinned. “Justice is getting soft.”

“Your influence.” Anders began to undo the buckles of his coat, the flush on his face deepening. “So, Isabela wanted to play Wicked Grace but I didn’t have enough coin.”

“How?” Hawke watched Anders’ hands on the buckles – surprisingly coordinated, not too far gone then. “I’m sure I just paid you your share from…”

“All spent on the clinic, love.” The coat fell open at the neck, showing an expanse of soft skin and the ridges of Anders’ collarbones. Hawke gave a soft growl of appreciation and reached out to trace the outline with a fingertip. “So she offered to play for forfeits.”

“Are you naked under there?” Hawke thumbed the edge of the coat, eyes hungry as Anders unfastened the final buckle. His earlier tiredness had fled, he was wide awake and intensely focused on the nervous movements of Anders’ hands up the front of his coat.

“Isabela’s a little more creative than that.” Anders laughed and tilted back his head, shaking out his hair and arching his throat. Hawke leaned down and nipped at the pale skin, groaning softly at Anders’ surprised hiss of pleasure. “Here, I’ll…” he pushed Hawke back gently. Hawke took a step away, eyes raking up and down Anders’ body as he swallowed, took hold of the coat, and shrugged it off in one fluid motion.

Hawke bit his lip, a stifled moan escaping him at the sight. Anders wasn’t naked – it was so much better than that. He was wearing a dress – the style Isabela favoured, a dark emerald green, obscenely short, slit up to the hip on each side. The deep V neckline was unlaced and hanging open to expose most of his chest, and a pale gold corset tightly cinched his waist. The green fabric was stunning against his skin, and it made his eyes appear an even more vivid amber than usual. Anders was always attractive, but tonight he was striking.

“Remind me to thank her,” Hawke said, his throat suddenly dry. “Listen – how much did you drink – I mean, are you – can I …” he fumbled over his words, jaw feeling slack and tongue clumsy.

“Three? Four?” Anders snorted. “Maybe more… Justice thinks I’m an embarrassment – and that I wouldn’t have found my way home without help but…” he straightened up, taking the two steps to approach Hawke with surprising ease, swinging his hips in a way that was _definitely_ deliberate. His eyes flashed blue for a moment, and his voice took on a deeper tone. “He is not unaware of his actions. You have nothing to fear.”

The moment Justice faded back into his mind, Anders was on him – a clumsy kiss, both of them too eager to savour it. Anders’ heel twisted in the boots and his teeth clashed against Hawke’s, and Hawke bit his lip in response. Anders arched against him and panted, ragged breaths and wet sounds as their lips moved together and Anders’ tongue invaded his mouth. He tasted of smoke and ale, and Hawke muffled his groan into his hot, wet mouth, walking him back against the desk and finally allowing himself to grab hold of those enticing sharp hips.

“Isabela isn’t getting this outfit back,” he mumbled against Anders’ mouth.

“She has my favourite shirt hostage,” Anders replied, ending on a soft _mmph_ as Hawke claimed his lips again, kissing him hard, deep, loving the faint, wet gasps he pulled from the mage as his hands wandered over his corseted waist and up to thumb his nipples through the silky fabric.

Hawke pulled Anders’ hair – gently at first to tilt his head back, then harder as he nipped at his chin, sucked and bit along his jawline and worried his earlobe between his teeth. Anders whined and his hips jerked forward, brushing against Hawke and revealing his growing hardness. Hawke ground back against him, and Anders let out a shuddering cry.

“Are you wearing anything under this?”

“You think I’d wear Isabela’s _underwear_?”

“Well,” Hawke laughed, feeling Anders squirm at the hot breath in his ear. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d fit into her boots either.”

“Only just.” Anders moaned as Hawke traced the rim of his ear with the tip of his tongue.

“So what you’re telling me,” Hawke growled, letting his hand slide down over the corset to settle on Anders hip again. “Is that I could just slip my hand up your skirt right now and feel how hard you are for me?”

“ _Fuck_ , yes.”

Hawke trailed his fingers along the lower edge of the corset, soft pressure making Anders writhe and buck his hips with a frustrated groan. Hawke slid his hand down, palm brushing the outline of Anders’ erection through the thin fabric. There was a damp spot on the silk, and Anders gasped sharply as Hawke’s fingers circled it, tracing the head of his cock.

“I can’t believe you were going to sneak in and not let me see you like this,” Hawke breathed, trailing his lips down Anders’ neck. He released his hair to tug the shoulder straps down, then nipped at the exposed skin with a groan.

“If I’d known – nngh – how much you’d like it, I wouldn’t have.” Anders thrust against his hand, breathing shallowly as Hawke’s fingers kneaded softly through the fabric. “I thought you’d laugh.”

“I laugh at a lot of things,” Hawke admitted. He followed a trail of scattered freckles down onto Anders’ chest, peppering his skin with kisses until he reached one almost exposed nipple. “You, like this? Never.”

Hawke’s teeth grazed Anders’ nipple through the fabric, and Anders’ hand tangled in his hair. He groaned, pushing up against Hawke’s mouth and rocking against his palm. Hawke rested his free hand on the steep curve of Anders’ hip, running his thumb over the boning of the corset as he moaned around his nipple and drew it into his mouth. He felt it harden through the wet silk, and flicked it with his tongue until Anders was groaning with every breath and his hand was clenched painfully in his hair.

Hawke dropped to his knees – a quick descent to the marble floor that he’d regret once the bruises formed but right now he didn’t care. Anders’ thighs were either side of him, wiry muscle and a light dusting of hair framed beautifully by the green fabric and the dark, worn leather. Hawke braced his hands on Anders’ inner thighs, and Anders gave a sharp frustrated cry at the loss of Hawke’s hand on his cock. It tented the fabric, tugging the dress up and leaving nothing to the imagination. Hawke leaned forward with an eager grunt, wrapping his lips around the head and sucking through the fabric.

“Yes,” Anders gasped, releasing Hawke’s hair to grip the edge of the desk with both hands. His hips jerked, and Hawke gripped his thighs firmly to hold him still.

“Patience,” he murmured, lips brushing against Anders’ straining cock.

Hawke mouthed his way down the rigid shaft, sucking and gently dragging his teeth over the fabric-covered length as Anders squirmed and moaned helplessly. When he reached the hem of the dress he caught it deftly between his teeth, and knelt up to pull it back. Anders’ cock was fully exposed, flushed and glistening, framed by fine silk and the delicate embroidery that scrolled across the corset. Hawke wrapped his lips around it, flattened his tongue against the head, and slowly sank down the length with a loud moan.

“Fuck,” Anders groaned, thrusting up against Hawke’s mouth. His breath was ragged, and Hawke felt his thighs tremble under his hands, straining to clench around him.

Hawke was slow, precise, his lips moving in a steady glide as he worked from tip to base and back. His tongue flattened against the head, then flickered at the sensitive spot just beneath and pushed up firmly to trace a line of pleasure down as he took him deep. He slid his hands up to grip Anders’ hips, leaving his thighs free to press close against his shoulders as Anders moaned his name and his cock pulsed against his tongue. Hawke pulled back with a grin, his own cock throbbing at Anders broken, desperate whimper.

“Close already, love?”

“You’re too good.” Anders laughed breathlessly, slumping back onto his elbows. The angle left his body arched beautifully, long, slim legs sprawled out and hips jutting up, his cock falling back to rest against his corseted belly.

Teasing Anders was fun, but there were limits to Hawke’s patience – the sight of his hard, slick cock was too good to resist. He rose on his knees again and took it into his mouth, into his throat. His groans were muffled by the firm length, and his eyes watered as Anders gripped his hair again and began to thrust slowly. He was gentle but demanding, fingertips maintaining pressure on the back of Hawke’s head as he bucked up against his lips. Hawke worked his tongue over every sensitive place as Anders’ thrusts sped up, sharp gasps giving way to unrestrained moans as Hawke cupped his hands under his ass and kneaded the firm muscle as he licked, sucked, and groaned eagerly around him

Anders’ body arched, hips lifting fully off the desk and thighs quivering as he cried out, dragging Hawke’s lips down to the base of his cock until his nose was pressed against his skin. Hawke felt the first hot spurt against the back of his throat, swallowing eagerly as Anders’ pulled him back to take the rest over his tongue. He groaned at the taste, heat and salt and _Anders,_ and ran his tongue over the slit to drag every last gasp and moan from the shuddering mage above him.

Anders slid off the desk and into his lap, grinding his ass against Hawke’s erection as he squirmed and dipped his head to kiss Hawke’s neck. Hawke gripped his ass firmly, rocked back on his heels and stood, grunting with exertion but only staggering for a moment before regaining his balance. Anders wrapped his legs around his waist and pulled back to grin down at Hawke, tangling his hands in his hair.

“What now?” Anders said, breathless and giddy as Hawke adjusted his grip.

“Now?” Hawke squeezed his ass, feeling the thin silk slip over bare skin. “I’m going to take you upstairs. We’re going to find out how flexible you are in this.” He ran one hand up onto the back of the corset, fingers tracing the ridges of the laces. “I have to admit,” he murmured as Anders’ lips met his again. “It’s going to take a _lot_ of investigation.”

“Mm?” Anders nipped at his lip, and Hawke growled in response, fingers digging into Anders’ ass as he headed for the stairs.

“Mmhmm.” He laughed softly, sound muffled by the hot, urgent press of Anders’ lips against his. Hawke paused at his bedroom door to push Anders up against the wall, grinding against him until they were both gasping for breath. Hawke groped for the door handle and pushed it open, and carried Anders inside. “I think – to be completely thorough – it might just take all night.”


End file.
